My Future, Your Past
by KyokiKyo
Summary: Kris never thought she would fall for the Boy-who-lived, never thought that she would actually become his girlfriend and definitely never thought she would come face-to-face with Voldemort himself. Why does he seem to know her? And why doesn't he kill her, a mudblood, outright? She doesn't find out until she accidently stumbles into the past. OCxTomRiddle, slight OCxHarry Potter
1. Delve Into Certain Death

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own this story, my OC, and the fact that I was bored enough to write this.  
I hope you like it XD_

* * *

"Are you paying _attention_, Kelly?" Amycus Carrow sneered, pointing his wand lazily in the direction of the girl sitting beside the classroom window.

The girl, no older than fifteen or perhaps sixteen, blinked as though coming out of a daze and lifted her head off the hand it had been propped on. For a moment, her gold-flecked hazel eyes just stared at the aging man, their owner silent. After a second, Kristen Kelly said, "Of course, _sir_." Her voice was mocking and held a layer of undeniable boredom.

"I don't think you were, _mudblood_." The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor growled, his lips twisting cruelly. "What were we reviewing?"

"Mmm." Kris's eyelids drooped wearily, the dark bags under her eyes more prominent in the streaming sunlight when she leaned back casually in her seat. "I can only imagine that you were emphasizing your complete lack of skill and knowledge to the class once again." Out of the corner of her eyes, Kris saw Ginny Weasley shoot her an exasperated look, clearly disapproving of the Ravenclaw's actions.

"_What _did you say, filthy mudblood?" Amycus hissed, his eyes widening alarmingly and his face acquiring a purple tint. "Say that again. _I dare you_."

Kris shrugged nonchalantly as if to say "You _dare _me? All right" and subconsciously brushed her inky-black locks behind her ears as she appraised her professor with an insouciant demeanor. "I said that I think your skill is laughable and that it baffles me as to how _you_, of all people, was made a Hogwarts teacher. A banshee with a sore throat would have been a better choice. Of course, we already _have _a banshee, seeing as Alecto was also hired…"

"Get up, you mudblood _bitch_." Amycus snarled, stalking over to the teenager to roughly grab the girl by her robes and haul her out of her seat. She was harshly shoved to the front of the classroom and, upon losing her balance, stumbled and fell, her palms scraping against the stone floor. "We'll review the _cruciatus _curse once more so you can learn your place, you piece of _trash_." Amycus waved his wand, muttering garbled words under his breath. Immediately, Kris was flung against the wall, her neck snapping back from the force of the collision so that her head cracked soundly against the stones.

Kris weakly lifted her head to blow her choppy bangs out of her face. An amused smile curled her lips that only managed to provoke Amycus further. It had become a game of Kris's, poking at the horrible Carrows to see how quickly they exploded. It amazed Kris that she had not yet been killed from one of their rages although she had suffered under bother the _Imperius_ and _Cruciatus_ curses more times than she could count. Ginny often accused Kris of being masochistic but the Ravenclaw explained that she simply wanted to prove that she would not bow her head to Voldemort or his accomplices—or, more like, his slaves.

"You insolent child!" Amycus growled, strutting forward, his face contorted with anger. "If I had permission to, I would slaughter each and every one of you mudbloods left in this school but I have yet to receive the orders to do so." He was close then, his booted feet right beside Kris's limp legs. The professor kicked her viciously and, gasping, the girl collapsed, holding her aching abdomen. "But, I assure you, the order _will_ come. Until then, your corrupt blood will continue to darken these halls."

A short, mad, barking laugh escaped Kris before she could even register it bubbling from her chest. "'Darken the halls'? The moment you stepped onto the _grounds_, I couldn't get my candle to hold a flame. And, since you're far too dimwitted to get the crappy jest, I'll explain: the flame, as a source of light—"

"_Crucio_." Amycus roared, thrusting his wand angrily at Kris.

Abruptly, Kris stopped talking and clamped her mouth shut. The first few times she had been hit by the _cruciatus_ curse, she had screamed so that her voice echoed throughout the entire castle and continued to shriek until her voice went hoarse. Since then, she had learned to keep form making _too _many noises—the girl refused to give the sadistic man the satisfaction. Still. Kris writhed in agony, her body contorting as she thrashed wildly against the cold ground. Blinding pain seared its way throughout her body and flushed out any other sense. She hardly noticed when Amycus slammed his fist into her nose, breaking the bone and giving her labored breaths a harsh, grating edge. In a desperate attempt to knock herself unconscious, Kris ferociously banged her head into the wall, her mouth agape in soundless screams of excruciating torment.

Finally, after what seemed like ages to the girl, Amycus released her from the curse only to snicker at her twitching form. A second later, Amycus dragged her still convulsing body to her feet. "If you're so confident that you're more skilled then I am, why don't we duel, mudblod?"

Glassy eyed, Kris reached for her wand only to have it torn from her trembling grasp.

"Oh _nooo_, dear girl, if I'm so weak, you won't need a _wand_." Chuckling maliciously, Amycus tossed her ebony wand to the side. Dumbly, Kris stared after it as it clattered to floor only to stop after hitting the side of a student's desk. "Now, prepare yourself." He ordered, spinning on the heels of his feet to stomp across the room. "The rest of you, watch closely to see how a _real _wizard deals with a defenseless, disgusting _muggle_—because that's what this monstrosity is, students—nothing more than a filthy muggle."

Lurching forward, Kris balanced herself by leaning against the professor's desk. Her vision swam—with tears or blood, she could not tell in her rattled state of mind. Vaguely, she recognized Ginny's concerned and horrified expression but it was gone as soon as Kris noticed it because the girl was suddenly thrown off her feet, her head bashing yet again into the unforgiving stone wall.

Mistily, Kris heard Amycus cackling and announcing that Kris was no more than a defenseless, worthless muggle. Stubbornly refusing to let the encroaching darkness overtake her, Kris lifted her eyes to see her professor readying another spell to be sent her way. Her heart was hammering beneath her ribcage as she recognized the spell as a life-threatening one. "_Sectumsempra_!" he roared, spinning his wand as he took a step toward her limp body.

Desperately, Kris called to all her knowledge of magic and attempted to croak out a defensive spell but no words made it past her lips. If she had been anyone else, Kristen Kelly might have given up. As it was, she narrowed her eyes, concentrating. Only a few times had she managaed to cast a spell without a wand or a voice and all attempts had been under much better conditions. Luckily, Kris saw the shimmering form of her mute _protego_ spell take form before her. Sadly, her spell was incredibly weak.

Amycus's curse smashed into Kris's shield, instantly shattering the fragile magic shield to pieces. That left Kris completely vulnerable. Her body jerked as twin gashes appeared on her stomach, quickly and irreparably staining her blouse a sickly crimson. _Pain_. It _hurt_. Gasping for breath, Kris slid, her body crumbling and leaving a smear of blood on the wall in her wake. Vaguely, Kris heard her classmates shouting, Ginny's voice rising above the rest before her terrified, ashen face appeared in her darkening sight. She was yelling something that only just reached Kris's ears. "—Madam Pomfry! And Professor McGonagall! _Go!"_ she tore off her cloak and used it in a futile attempt to stem the flow of blood.

Sputtering, Kris tried to speak—not entirely certain what she wanted to say. Blood filled her mouth with a coppery tang and the warm, thick liquid spilled down her chin. As much as she struggled to hold onto her consciousness, her vision wavered yet again and suddenly everything was black.

_So this is it, _she mused as she felt herself drown in an abysmal darkness. _This is how I die… dammit! And after he made me promise to stay safe…_

* * *

_The dream she had was not unusual unless she counted the fact that she thought that she should be stuck in oblivion, in heaven or hell, or something of the sort instead of _dreaming _of all things. Perhaps it _was _the afterlife? Somehow, Kris sincerely doubted it. _

_ It started out with Kris in her first year at Hogwarts. Kris remembered it well since it was the first time she met _him_. Despite being in different houses, Ginny Weasley and Kris had struck up a quick friendship though Kris hardly knew why. Even she knew that she was strange—not to mention also a muggleborn. Still, Kris became fast friends with the bright-haired Gryffindor and, because of this companionship, met _him—_Harry Potter. _

_ At first, Kris had no inkling as to who the shaggy-haired boy was. Ginny had invited Kris to study in the library with her where they consequently ran into Ginny's brother, Ron. The gangly twelve-year-old immediately called his sister over to his group and Ginny dragged the reluctant Kris with her. _

_ Introductions were necessary for Kris's sake and the girl was overjoyed to find that the girl with them was also a muggleborn. Ravenclaw did not often accept wizards and witches without magical ancestry—just like Slytherin but to less of an extreme—and Kris had found herself alone in her year in Ravenclaw. _

_ "This is Hermione," Ron introduces, motioning to the bushy-haired girl beside him. The girl smiled and nodded a friendly hello. Ginny was dumbstruck, left speechless with her eyes glued to the dark haired boy with the circular glasses and gentle smile. Kris surmised that her new friend had something of a crush on the boy that her brother was friends with. "And this is Harry." Ron continued, jabbing his hands excitedly to the boy at his right. "_The _Harry Potter."_

_ Kris blinked, keeping her features characteristically blank and full of boredom. She furtively eyes the boy—Harry—curiously. Should she recognize him? Was he famous or something? All four of the students were watching her expectantly but she had no idea what they thought she would do. "Mmm. Okay." She finally said with a subtle wobble of her head. "I'm Kristen. Kristen Kelly. But I prefer to be called 'Kris.'"_

_ Hermione's eyes widened fractionally, Ron practically gaped, and Harry's smile widened, his expression tinged with relief. Kristen had no idea why her lack of response affected them so. Ginny giggled softly, twirling a few strands of vibrant orange hair around her pale finger. "Kris is a muggleborn." The first year Gryffindor said in explanation. "So she has no idea who you are, Harry." Ginny's eyes were downcast as she spoke to the boy, her cheeks acquiring a shade similar to her hair. _

_ "Muggleborn?" Hermione asked, eyebrows rising. _Here it comes_, Kris thought bitterly. Only, Kris was surprised when the continued with, "I'm a muggleborn as well!" she smiled cheekily and held her hand out. Taken aback, Kris was slow to process Hermione's proffered hand but the second year did not falter when she realized what the older girl wanted. Kris nearly jumped and took her hand, jittery. They shook, Hermione's eyes shining pleasantly. _

_ "Lucky you found someone who doesn't know you already, eh, Harry?" Rom grinned humorously, nudging Harry in the ribs. _

_ "_Should _I know you?" Kris queried, eyeing Harry inquisitively. He was smiling like he was happy that she did not immediately recognize him. _

_ Harry opened his mouth to speak but Ron interrupted excitedly. "He's the one who defeated You-Know-Who! _Twice!_"_

_ Scratching the nape of her neck in confusion, Kris shook her head. "Sorry, who?"_

_ "Voldemort." Harry informed Kris without hesitation. Kris silently noted how Hermione, Ron, and Ginny winced at the name. "But it's not impressive; I was just lucky is all. I would be dead if it wasn't for my friends."_

_ Kris smiled faintly. "You're very modest for a supposed celebrity-hero, then." She commented airily—like her mind was elsewhere. Kris tended to speak in a way that made people believe they did not have her full attention. Usually, it annoyed the people she conversed with and Kris was mentally pleased when none of the students before her pointed it out or mocked her. _

_ Yes… Kris remembered their first meeting vividly. She mused on how _accepted _she had felt when immersed in conversation with the trio and Ginny. Kris had never felt so content before…_

_ Slowly, that memory faded out and was replaced with a more recent one—her fifth year and the time when her life changed forever…_

_ They were in Hogsmeade, Harry and Kris. She had been perplexed at first, wondering why exactly Hermione, Ron, and Ginny had skeeved on their plans for the Hogsmeade weekend. When Ginny had approached her to explain that she could not make it, the redhead had given Kris a knowing look before giggling merrily and rushing away before the Ravenclaw had a chance to grab her and demand answers. _

_ To Kris's surprise, Harry—who seemed distracted and twitchy—had led her to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop instead of the Three Broomsticks, their group's usual haunt. Kris had hardly expected it because Madam Puddifoot's gaudy appearance made Harry uncomfortable because it reminded him of a certain cat-loving, ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—the sadistic and freakishly chipper, Dolores Umbridge. Once they sat down together at one of the frilly tables, Kris shot a disgusted look over to a couple who were shamelessly snogging. _

_ When Harry ordered a butterbeer, Kris's attention returned to her friend and she ordered the same thing absently as she examined Harry speculatively, wondering what exactly had him so nervous. His leg vibrated apprehensively and his green eyes flashed to her before quickly zooming away. "So…" Kris cleared her throat and propped her head upon her palm, eyes half-lidded in her general insouciant facial expression. "What's up?" yawning, the Ravenclaw covered her mouth with her hand and brushed a few crumbs off the table left from the previous occupants. "Something's obviously bothering you." Was it her imagination or did Harry's cheeks actually grow pinkish?_

_ "No…" He denied, fidgeting in his seat._

_ "Don't lie; it doesn't suit you." Kris chastised inattentively. "I've known you long enough to know when something's on your mind—other than the usual like fighting for survival and dealing with Death Eaters, Voldemort, Snape, Malfoy, prophecies that spell doom, giant snakes and spiders, unicorns and happily dancing gnomes—"_

_ "You're so weird, you know that?" Harry interrupted, , a slightly amused smile curing his lips. "But yeah, I guess something's on my mind."_

_ "Hmm. Girl trouble?" Kris guessed._

_ Harry's head jerked up and his voice rose a pitch as he spoke. "What? How-how'd you guess?"_

_ Kris shrugged, deadpan. "You looked kinda like this last year when Cho was nagging you." Sighing, the girl stretched, leaning back in her seat. "Look, I don't know if I'm the best person you can talk to about this but, if you _really _want to, I'll listen but I can't promise that I'll be any help."_

_ Harry's eyes lit up—the joyous expression completely contradicting how he abruptly averted his gaze and coughed. "Well, that's what I want, yeah."_

_ "All right. I'm all ears." Turned out, Kris could have been deaf and Harry still would have managed to get his message across. The boy-who-lived leaned over, lightly clutched Kris's shoulders, and softly pressed his lips against hers. _

_ "Kris…" he murmured, pulling away from the bewildered and flustered Kristen. "Kris. _Kris. Kris!"

* * *

"Kris!"

Kris shot up and groaned, falling back down onto the comfortable hospital wing bed. Her stomach hurt like _hell_ and she had been having _such _a nice dream. Who had ruined it?

"Merlin! Kris, I've been calling your name _forever_ and you just squirmed." Ginny Weasley said, a conflicting mixture of annoyance, relief, and concern coloring her words. "How are you feeling?"

"Like butterflies and rainbows just got together to start a coordinated dance routine, scattering smiles, puppies, and candy around for every—"

"She's fine." That came from Neville Longbottom, another Gryffindor and one of Kris's closest friends—especially since Harry left with Ron and Hermione. "Either that or she's incredibly confused."

"Confused?" The Ravenclaw repeated, wincing as she shifted positions. "I believe that is too kind of a description of my current situation. I lost my sanity ages ago. You guys might as well refer to me as 'that crazy girl.'"

"Huh? We already do—behind your back, of course." Ginny grinned.

"Of course." Kris muttered, running her trembling fingers through her coal-black hair. She felt weary to the bone—and she was _not_ used to that. Kris was far too lazy of a person to be used to physical exhaustion.

"How are you _really _feeling?" Luna asked flippantly, eyes vacant like she was lost. Luna lovegood was the only Ravenclaw in Kris's year that she along with—even if Kris could not stand her presence for more than a few hours. "The nargles were very worried, you see. They're quite fond of you, Kris, it seems."

"I feel… tired and my stomach really hurts." Kris admitted grudgingly after a moment of indecision. She _hated _revealing a weakness of any sort and had always worked hard to prove herself (unless it came to school work, physical activity, befriending someone… and the list goes on and on…). It was detestable, in Kris's mind, to be lying there on a hospital bed—humiliating even.

"You were hit by the _sectumsempra_ curse." Neville informed the pale girl.

"I remember." Kris grimaced and closed her eyes, languidly throwing her forearm over her face to block out all light. "What happened after?"

"Luna and I got Madam Pomfry and Professor McGonagall. Amycus nearly had a fit." She smiled weakly. "Apparently, he's not supposed to injure a student so severely—even muggleborns." Her voice had a bitter edge. "He's trying to find out who cast the _protego_—even though it was ineffective. He's insanely angry that someone tried to protect you."

"We already established that it wasn't one of us." Neville added quickly. "So who…?"

Luna dreamily stared at the ceiling. "I tried to convince them that the wrackspurts did it but they won't believe me. They hate Amycus, you know."

"Oh. Well, it was no one. I mean, it was me. It was pretty badly conjured though, seeing as I was hardly conscious when I cast it."

"_You?_" Ginny's asked, disbelieving. Her eyebrows rose. "But—I never knew you were so skilled! You can do wandless, nonverbal spells?"

"Sometimes." Kris rolled her shoulders and instantly regretted it. Lightning pain shot throughout her body and Kris was glad that her eyes were covered. "I was surprised it worked, actually, although it didn't exactly help, did it?"

"Still, that's amazing." Ginny insisted.

"Is it? Hm. I've seen you do nonverbal spells before and Hermione could do them way before I could." Kris pointed out in a quiet, weak voice.

"Yes. That's true." Ginny conceded.

"It just goes to show those muggle-hating lunatics that muggleborns can be a whole lot better than purebloods at magic." Neville added, clearly thinking about how inadequate he considered himself.

The hospital wing door swung open abruptly and Kris lifted her arm to see Professor McGonagall along with the hated headmaster, Severus Snape, sweep in, cloaks billowing dramatically. Upon seeing the greasy-haired wizard, all four students stiffened—even Luna seemed afraid. Kris could not _stand _looking at this particular man—especially not after he killed Dumbledore in cold blood. Harry had been devastated, near inconsolable, and Kris absolutely hated seeing him so distraught. Kris was glaring hatefully at the old Potions master until he glimpsed McGonagall's face and curiously observed the Professor's pale, distressed features. The aging woman had an air about her that spelled something horrible and they walked straight for Kris's bed.

"You three," McGonagall looked quickly between Neville, Luna, and Ginny. "I am going to have to ask you to leave."

Kris swallowed, gold-flecked hazel eyes appraising the two adults. She exchanged furtive looks with her friends before they said their goodbyes and left, leaving the injured Ravenclaw with McGonagall and Snape. Once the door shut behind her friends, Kris nodded wearily to McGonagall—stubbornly refusing to acknowledge Snape's dark presence.

"How are you feeling, Kelly?" McGonagall asked, her usually stern tone of voice softened with worry.

"Better than I expected." Kris answered calmly, eyes flicking from the Transfiguration professor to Snape for an instant. The Ravenclaw knew that something bad was about to be said but she also knew that she not have to hurry it along. They would get to whatever needed to be discussed and all Kristen had to do was patiently wait.

"Poppy has informed ,e that you are going to end up scarred, Kelly. "McGonagall went on. "Two lacerations on your stomach, critically wounding you. Poppy did everything she could but that _dreadful _spell is dark and not easily healed." McGonagall shot Snape, the man who invented said spell, a withering glare before plowing on. "Amycus has taken it too far this time."

"Far enough to attract the Dark Lord's attention." Snape added in a bored tone. McGonagall paled even more is that was possible and then it struck Kris like a ton of bricks.

"He's _here?_" She demanded, her voice cracking. How was it possible? Why would _Voldemort_ take it upon himself to penalize one of his own Death Eaters for hurting a filthy mudblood? Or, more likely, for not finishing the job properly. Still, why would Voldemort come to Hogwarts when he already had more important things to do?

"Yes." Snape answered shortly.

"My dear, I'm afraid that he has requested _your _presence." McGonagall told Kris unhappily.

Kris froze. The Dark Lord wanted to meet _her?_ Torture he, more like. He probably heard that she was close to Harry and wanted to get information out of her. Well that would not happen. No matter what Voldemort decided to put her through, Kris would divulge nothing. She was a very good Occulems (although, horrendous at _legilimency_) and could defend even against the strongest invasion of her mind.

"It is best not to keep M'Lord waiting." Snape suggested apathetically, his dark eyes holding no emotion. "He is awaiting your presence in the dungeons. Come, I will lead you." He motioned for Kris and turned.

Grimacing, Kris hauled herself to her feet with great difficulty, aided by the sympathetic McGonagall.

"My dear, are you certain you can stand?" the Transfiguration teacher asked when Kris shrugged off the woman's helping hands.

"I'm… fine." Kris breathed stubbornly through gritted teeth. She was lying and it was obvious to both Kris and her Professor. Kris's knees shook with the strain of holding her own weight. "Everything is just… dandy." She continued, concentrating on taking an experimental step. Luckily, Kris did not find herself sprawled on the floor and even managed to begin a cautious, albeit incredibly slow, walk using the wall for support. "Yup." She glanced at Minerva McGonagall who was walking comfortingly close. "Just like unicorns and sunshine and tutu wearing dancing trolls."

"Where on earth do you come up with these ridiculous statements?" McGonagall sighed. "You'll have to keep your mouth shut when you talk to You-Know-Who. Honestly, Kelly, it's like you're _looking _for trouble."

"I'll probably be dead very soon so it hardly matters." Kris stated emotionlessly.

McGonagall gasped and grabbed the dizzy girl's arm. "Do not say that."

"Why? Obviously, he wants information. Seeing as there's no way I'm going to tell him anything, he'll kill me. After all, I'm just a mudblood, right?"

"Kelly… if this _is _the last time we speak," McGonagall was quiet and Kris knew that the elderly professor could see acceptance written across her features, wearily painting her face with resignation. "I must commend you for being one of my brightest students I have ever had the pleasure of teaching. Lazy, unorthodox, and frustrating at times, yes, but bright not less. You have a brilliant mind and admirable loyalty to your friends. I dare say you would have made a wonderful Gryffindor. Kris, I say this because, if anything, you have proven to me and many others that being muggleborn is not as terrible as some would like to say."

"I practically am a Gryffindor." Kris mused, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. McGonagall clearly thought that Kris would not come out of this meeting alive and Kris agreed. She thought of her friends and wished that she could have given them all a more adequate goodbye. "Considering all my friends other than Luna are in Gryffindor."

"I just wish there was a way to protect all my precious students." McGonagall said, melancholy.

"Don't worry about me." Kris said. When they reached the dungeons, lagging far behind Snape, she visibly hesitated. "If…" raw emotion was displayed on Kris's usually impassive face. "If I don't come back, can you tell… tell Harry that I'm sorry for breaking my promise?"

McGonagall's eyes softened considerably and she patted the girl's shoulder. "Of course."

The two of them reached Snape moments later and the greasy-haired headmaster motioned for Kris to enter the room he stood by.

Sighing, Kris dug her fingers into the pockets of her robes, wishing drearily that Amycus had not taken her wand. Taking a deep breath, Kris glanced over her shoulder at McGonagall who had made no move to follow, and smiled weakly before delving into what had to be certain death.

* * *

A/N:_ well, glad I got that over with. Took me forever... my poor fingers are worn to the bone...  
anyways, thanks for reading! This is an idea that has been nagging at me for a long time and I only just decided to write it down.  
Please review to give me tips, seeing as this is my first story! I could use some constructive criticism. I would also LOVE feedback on whether or not this story is even worth continuing considering I'm a huge procrastinator and will probably forget all about this story if no one likes it.  
I will love you forever and even give you an imaginary cookie if you review! XD_


	2. Of Time and Destiny

A/N_: So here's chapter 2! It's shorter than my last one by 1,000 words (lol)  
Enjoy! X3_

* * *

Red, snake-like slits for eyes. That was the first thing Kris noticed upon her entrance. It was hard to imagine that the figure before her ever held an even remotely human appearance. Voldemort lounged regally in a big, cushioned chair, his hands resting on the arms, fingers curled slightly. He wore loose, black robes with the hood thrown up to hide what Kris knew from Harry as a bald top. Voldemort's lips were thin and his nose was practically nonexistent. From both Harry and Ginny, Kris knew that Voldemort had actually once been good-looking as a teenager. Looking at the monster before her, Kris failed to believe her friends' word. It was disconcerting how his eyes were glued to her face like he was searching her eyes for something. What exactly, Kris was at a loss. The Dark Lord swiftly took in her profile, no doubt noticing how she stepped cautiously and with obvious effort. Merlin, she hated how weak she felt—she was defenseless and facing Lord Voldemort of all things!

Pinching the bridge to her nose, Kris realized that Madam Pomfry had mended the damage to her poor bones and even cleaned the blood off her face. Her attire, however, was still caked with blood but, luckily, someone had thrown a sweatshirt over her ruined blouse. Her eyes quickly scanned the room, taking in the low ceiling and sparse accommodations. Kris had never been in the room before but, considering how it lacked furniture other than the few chairs facing Voldemort, it did not appear to be one used often. Alecto and Amycus sat side by side on a short bench and they both greeted their most hated mudblood with milk-curdling sneers of disdain. There were no other exits besides the door Snape was currently closing behind them. This worried Kris. If she decided to make a run for it, she would pretty much be screwed. Then again, the wizards in the room would have about the same amount of difficulty hitting the weakened Kris with a spell as they would squashing a snail with their foot.

"Welcome, Kristen." Voldemort greeted amicably enough. Kris's lips twitched when he called her by her full first name. she hated how girly her name always seemed to her—not to mention she was named after her mother whom she detested. Kris had the urge to correct Voldemort and tell him to call her "Kris" instead but managed to quickly suppress the insane desire. Why the _hell _would she tell the freaking Dark Lord to talk to her using a pet name?!

"Ohaiyo, Mr. Dark Lord sir." Kris said with a sluggish salute and a droll, mocking smile. It was Voldemort's turn for his lips to twitch and Kris was shocked that he did not kill her right then and there. Snape tensed at her side and both Alecto and Amycus jumped to their feet, outrage coloring their faces tomato red.

"You insolent _mudblood_—" Alecto roared, reaching for her wand.

"I'll skin you alive—!" Amycus snarled, his wand already in his grasp and pointed to Kris fiercely.

"All I said was hello." Kris muttered. "And all hell breaks loose." She made no move to defend herself and stared at the Carrow twins coldly, her eyes revealing no fear. She had already prepared herself for death and had gone through torture fat too many times to fear it any longer. "People really must not like me. Oh, the woe! And I just _live _to please."

"_Calm_ yourselves, Alecto, Amycus." Voldemort ordered in a raised, commanding voice. His eyes did not leave Kris though and that made her fidgety. She did not like being under his demonic red gaze. It was uncomfortable not to mention creepy. It was like he could see into her soul… and that freaked Kris out. "Both of you may leave; I'm finished with you. Severus, escort the Carrows out."

So that… that left Kris alone with the Dark Lord. Part of her was uneasy while the other part estimated that her chances of survival just raised drastically… but no, she could not allow herself to taste hope and then have it squashed cruelly. Snape nodded and the Carrows, after shooting murderous glares Kris's way to which she waved cheekily, stalked out of the room, the door slamming behind them.

"You may sit." Voldemort announced as if Kris needed his permission before she would do a thing.

The girl made no move to take a seat before him. For one, she believed she would have a much better chance of living if she was standing behind the chairs so she could duck for cover if necessary and she, for another, she also did not want to be closer to the man who had murdered Harry's parents. "Nah, that's alright. There's a nice draft where I am."

"I insist." The insanely pale (emphasis on "insane") man said through his teeth (he had teeth? How weird! For some reason, Kris had imagined the fearsome Dark Lord without humane features such as teeth). "You should not be standing, wounded as you are."

Kris almost laughed. _Voldemort_ concerned for _her _wellbeing? He was either trying to charm her or he just wanted a reason for her to move closer. Or he wanted to shock her into losing a grip on her mental barrier. She _could _feel his mind brushing the edges of hers but he did not gain access to her thoughts and memories. He did not seem to be trying to get in all that hard—it was more like he was testing her than anything else.

Frowning, Kris considered sitting. She honestly did nto know how much longer her legs could hold her weight. They were already shaking with the strain and she could feel the injury from Amycus's curse aching nonstop. If she could just rest… sighing, Kris cautiously stepped over the seat furthest from Lord Voldemort and warily slid onto the cushions, involuntarily shivering when she lifted her eyes to meet those of the man who was the cause for all her physical pain (besides herself). Voldemort may not be the one who pointed the want and muttered the words that instigated her torture but he was the one who made it possible for such things to occur on a daily basis at Hogwarts.

Kris sat rigidly, her eyes occasionally sweeping the perimeter of the room in a failed attempt to find something that could prove useful should the evil man before her try to attack. Her fingers clasped tightly together, she met his stare steadily, hiding any fear she may feel welling up inside. They sat silently for a while and Kris could feel the pressure on her mind build as Voldemort tried to dig in only to fail time and time again. His expression remained the same calm one however, despite how frustrated he must have felt with Kris's mind being impenetrable to him.

"You're wearing dead worms, you know." Kris finally commented airily, intent on getting to whatever the Dark Lord wanted—her death, most likely.

Voldemort smirked slightly and leaned back in his chair, malevolent red eyes fixed on the girl. "What are you talking about?"

"Your robes." Kris clarified with a sharp bob of her head and a bored wave of her arm. "Silk, aren't they? A pity so many poor worms had to be slaughtered to make them for you." The girl knew that she was probably getting on the all-powerful Dark Lord's nerves but she did not care. What could he do to her that had not already been done? Other than kill her, that is, which she was prepared for.

Voldemort just stared at her unblinkingly. Finally he asked in a low voice, "Do you know who I am?"

_Is he trying to intimidate me?_ Kris just looked at him incredulously. For some reason, she got the feeling that his intent was not intimidation but purely curiousity. That was… crazy though. For one, how could Kris _possibly _know him personally and, for another, why would he even care? "I _thought _you were Voldemort—you know, the guy trying to take over the world? But you're not acting much like I thought you would. If I _must _speculate on your true identity, I'd hafta guess an iguana named Alfie."

"How did you think I would act?"

"well, to begin with, I'm still alive and currently not writhing on the ground in pain." Kris shrugged insouciantly. "So that's a plus, I suppose, but unexpected to say the least."

"You thought I would kill you or torture you." It was impossible to tell what the man was thinking and Kris's eyes narrowed in response.

"No, I still think you will. It's just a matter of when at this point. Since I'm still relatively unharmed, I can only assume that you're after information. Let me save you a few hours of torture and tell you that I'll never reveal a thing to you. Not that I know much, but still." Kris was secretly proud of herself for remaining so calm. Some part of her was worried that she would be unable to act as she usually did before _the _Lord Voldemort but was glad that her head remained cool and her thought collected and controlled.

"If that is what you expect will happen, why are you so indifferent?"

"Because I'm prepared for death and used to the _cruciatus_ curse."

"'Prepared for death'?" he smirked, his hand lifting to touch the corner of his eye as he continued to star at the Ravenclaw. "Do you not fear your own demise?"

"Unlike you, I have accepted the inevitability for an end, as everything should."

Voldemort's eyes flashed and narrowed. Kris swallowed when she realized that she had stupidly revealed what she knew of the Dark Lord's character. Harry had informed her of what he had seen in his meetings with Dumbledore and from that Kris had learned of Voldemort's past as Tom Riddle. She knew about the horcruxes Harry, Hermione, and Ron were searching for and she knew of Voldemort's fear of and end.

"You… show me the back of your neck." His voice was icy and it had Kris frozen stiff. His hand had fallen to form a light fist on his lap.

Kris hesitated. What the hell could he want to see her neck for? She was uncertain as to whether or not she should show him but… where was the harm? If she refused, he would eventually get what he wanted but only after enormous pain on her part. The Dark mark was placed on a person's inner forearm so he could not be planning on marking her. Still, Kris did not know if it was a good idea.

Mouth twisted in a frown, Voldemort lifted his wand and uttered, "_Imperio_."

Immediately, a mental fog clouded Kris's thoughts and a sweet, charming voice suggested that she do as Voldemort asked. A goofy smile on her dreamy face, Kris felt her own fingers move to collect her long hair and brush it to the side. Still smiling stupidly, she got up and stepped careful over to the cloaked man, forgetting just who he was. Turning, she gave him a view of the nape of her neck. The voice echoed in her head, telling her to stand still even as she felt the point of a wand being pressed to the skin on the back of her neck. Words were muttered that Kris vaguely recognized as revealing spells and then…

Kris was herself again. Stifling a horrified cry that threatened to escape her, she jumped and groaned when pain shot throughout her body. Quickly, the Ravenclaw skittered back to her seat, arms clutching her stomach. "What the _hell?_" she demanded, eyes wider than they usually were. If he thought that she was upset with being under the imperius curse, he would be wrong. She was simply shocked. Voldemort had had absolute control over her physical body and all he had her do was show him her neck. What had he expected to find? Whatever it was, _did _he find it? Subconsciously, her hand rose to cup the back of her neck, feeling for anything out of the ordinary. It _seemed _normal.

"I was looking for something." Voldemort told her.

Scowling, Kris curled her fingers into white-knuckled fists and held them stiffly on her knees. "And did you _find _it?" she asked gratingly.

"No. you may go."

Kris's jaw almost dropped in surprise. "What? That's it? No torture, no killing? Just and imperius and strange questions?"

Something in his expression shifted but Kris could not put a finger on what exactly. "Are you saying you want to stay?"

"Merlin, no!" Kris hopped to her feet so quickly, she stumbled and had to use the chair to support herself. "So… I'm… just allowed to go? You're sure?"

"I can kill you if you want." He snapped, expression darkening. "Do _not _test my patience, little Ravenclaw, because it only extends so far."

"Maybe the nargles really _do _like me." Kris muttered, aware that Voldemort could hear her as she moved to leave. "Because something crazy just saved me." She kept her eye on the Dark Lord, not trusting him to actually keep his word and do nothing when her back was turned. Perhaps his goal was to feed the waning hope inside Kris and then cruelly squash any hope left inside her. It was a horrible idea by Kris was wary nonetheless, eyeing the man suspiciously as she made to leave.

"I expect you back here tomorrow directly after your classes end." Voldemort said, his words flat and drained of all emotion.

Kris sighed. What did he _want _from her? There was no way in hell she was returning again if she could help it. If she had to, she would hide in the room of Requirements or escape into Hogsmeade. If she was desperate, she would elope and leave the castle behind. She would not risk everything by returning to Voldemort. With that conviction in mind, Kris turned around and left, unafraid. He would not hurt her from behind if he expected to see her the next day, that she was certain of.

The halls were empty as Kris passed through. Usually the Ravenclaw enjoyed silence but at that moment, she only thought it was eerie. Kris had been walking awhile before she realized that she was instinctively heading in the direction of the Ravenclaw dormitories. Deciding that it would probably be best to go back to the hospital wing considering she was still weak and barely able to walk and hold herself up. Madam Pomfry would most likely like to look at her wound and treat them again anyway and, although headstrong and stubborn, Kris was not stupid enough to think she could handle her immense injuries on her own. So, she spun to start in the opposite direction only to freeze. Before her, on the wall she had just passed, was a pair of double doors, intricately wrought and divided into four sections like the school logo. The two doors were sliced into four separate squares, each depicting a beautifully carved symbol for each class house: A snake for Slytherin, lion for Gryffindor, raven for Ravenclaw, and a badger for Hufflepuff.

Intrigued, Kris inched closer. She had never seen the doors before even though hst was positive that she had passed through the same corridor dozens—if not hundreds of times before. "Like the Room of Requirements…?" she voiced quietly, announcing her train of thoughts to the darkness that filled the hallway. Inspecting the door up close, Kris noticed that there was no knob, no handle to open the doors. Kris failed to reign in her curiosity and it got the better of her. Reaching out, she brushed her fingers against the delicate iron-workings and let out a wail of terror when the door literally sucked her arm in, quickly dragging the rest of her reluctant body with it. Her voice echoes throughout the hallway only to fade and leave everything silent.

_ Come, meet your destiny, Kristen Kelly._ A voice so painful to the ears, it made her feel like someone was driving a wrench into her skull. It ripped through her brain, the words barely registering through the fog of pain clouding her thoughts. Everything was black and, even though she _knew _she was screaming, nothing penetrated the consuming darkness but that horrible, _horrible _voice. _For your future at the moment is not here in this time but in that that has already been. _

Kris just wanted it to _end. _The agony was like nothing she had ever experienced before—including the cruciatus curse. This pain was not just physical like the cruciatus but also mental, attacking her brain mercilessly. Her brain was being torn out, her heart and lungs squeezed until they stopped working, her body and soul severed… she just wanted it to _end_

And then it did.

And then there was… nothing.

* * *

Severus Snape, headmaster of Hogwarts, paced his office tensely his hands clenched together behind his back. He glanced up on occasion to look at the portrait of an incredibly old-looking man with twinkling blue eyes and a beard as long as Snape's entire arm. The man in the picture moved and Snape seemed accustomed to such actions being taken by a picture.

"And you're saying I should do _nothing_?" Snape demanded incredulously, finally freezing in his pacing to turn on the man in the picture frame.

"No, not nothing." The bearded man denied, pausing in his cheerful whistling. "Watch and pay close attention to their interactions. Tell me, how did Miss Kelly react upon setting her eyes on Tom?"

"I already told you, that insolent witch acted as she normally does, unafraid and with a disrespectful attitude. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Hmm… I suspected as much." Eyes twinkling thoughtfully, he pulled long, elegant fingers through his unruly beard.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "You're not telling me something, Dumbledore." He accused, irritation lacing his words. "Why was the Dark Lord so keen on becoming acquainted with _Kelly_, of all people? She's no one special unless you count being connected with _Potter_." He spat the name with all the venom he could muster. "And you and I both know that the girl will reveal nothing, being a strong Occlumens. So what is your _real _interest in all of this?"

Dumbledore teased the corners of his half-moon spectacles thoughtfully. "And Tom? How was he?" the man queried, completely ignoring all of Snape's questions.

Gritting his teeth together, Snape glared at the previous headmaster—whom _he _had killed under the man's orders. "Very… _strangely_, Dumbledore, but I could be wrong. It was like he expected Kelly to know him outright." Not to mention he stared at her like a starved wolf, deprived of the basic necessities of life for years only to have it dangling in front of him in the form of Kristen Kelly. But Snape could not say that… no, the old Potions Master knew it was a ridiculous notion even as he thought it. "And there was _amusement _in his eyes when Kelly spoke, if you can believe that. He even told Amycus and Alecto to leave when they threatened the girl. It was all very unusual. I had expected the Dark Lord to publicly torture and murder the mud—_muggleborn_."

"I see…" Dumbledore was smiling softly.

"If you'll see fit to bring me up to date on these matters, I'm waiting." Snaped said tersely, falling into the headmaster's seat and curling his fingers into fists.

"Yes… I think you should be aware of this story." Dumbledore nodded. "It is one I cannot tell Harry despite it being a very important piece of Tom Riddle's history."

"And what does Kristen Kelly have to do with it?"

"Everything, Severus, for, you see, destiny is a tricky subject and Miss Kelly's destiny is far from an easy one—if she's willing to accept it."

"Enough with the riddles, Dumbledore." Snape snapped impatiently, leaning forward in his seat and clasping his hands rigidly together. "Just tell me."

Dumbledore sighed like he was oh-so disappointed at having his fun ruined. "To be blunt, somehow Miss Kelly finds her way fifty years into the past where she meets Tom Riddle himself. I do not know when this happens but, from what you have told me, I know it has yet to occur."

"_What?"_ Snape cried, jumping to his feet. "How is that—why is that _possible_?"

"I know not, Severus, all I know from Miss Kelly herself as she explained it to me in my past is that she found a door in the castle that transported her to Tom's time at Hogwarts. No time turners were involved as they were all destroyed a few years ago when Harry went to the Department of mysteries. Something literally ripped her from her own time and placed her in an unknown world. As I was informed, this process is very painful."

"So you met Kristen Kelly fifty years before she attended Hogwarts?" Snape clarified. Dumbledore nodded. "And she met—meets—The Dark Lord as a teenager?"

"Correct. Actually, it was the way she initially acted around Tom that confirmed my suspicions on the boy's character."

"'Initially'? So she did not always treat him with caution?"

"Over time, Miss Kelly's views were altered, I suppose. They became something close to what you and I would call 'friends.'" Dumbledore stated mysteriously.

* * *

A/N: _so how was it? Good, terrible, meh? Reviews, pweeeazee!  
Originally, I had planned on writing Voldemort's point of view during his meeting with Kris but I quickly scratched that. I didn't want to reveal too much so quickly! However, I wanted to find a way to get the information I wanted across so that's where Snape's talk with Dumbledore came in.  
Tom Is gonna be in the next chapter, don'tcha worry! _


	3. Fabricating a Lie For a Past

**Dislaimer:** _I do not own Harry Potter and I never will unless my diabolical plan works out... (muahaha..)_

* * *

"What have we here? Another student out past curfew?" a distinctly feminine voice broke through the overwhelming shadows that had Kris captive.

Groaning, Kris felt physical awareness come back to her. Hyperaware of every tingle in her body, Kris let out a cough, shuddering pitifully. She felt _warm _and yet cold at the same time. Her arms were sticky with a substance Kris did not recognize until her vision came back to her and her gold-flecked hazel eyes took in the puddle of crimson _blood_ surrounding her body on the floor. Her wounds had reopened.

"Who are you and what are you doing on the floor?" the voice was stern and it reminded Kris of… someone. Who, Kris was too groggy and pained to come up with a name. The figure closed the distance between them and Kris blinked away the stupor she was under. "What's this—oh my lord!" Kris almost chuckled. So the girl had discovered the blood. "_Lumos_." Immediately, light filled the hallway and Kris had to squint because it was so bright after so much darkness. "Bloody _hell_, what happened? Were you attacked? _Shit_." Pale hands, one clasped tightly around a wand that was emitting the source of light, fluttered around Kris's neck, searching for a pulse that the dark-haired Ravenclaw knew was there. After all, she _was_ alive… right?

Suddenly, Kris's chest tightened and her body convulsed with agaonized coughs, blood spilling down her chin. Oddly enough, Kris could feel that her consciousness remained strong despite how much blood she had to be losing.

"_Shit_." The girl repeated. "_Wingardium Leviosa!"_ she said and Kris felt her body lift off the ground weightlessly. Next, Kris heard the same girl utter the _patronus_ charm, evidently sending a message to someone. "Hey, hey, everything's alright, don't worry; I'll get you to Madam Malkin, no problem…" To Kris, it sounded more like the girl was trying to reassure herself more than Kris.

Hating the sensation of airlessness, Kris struggled and the girl let out a squeal when her concentration broke and Kris collapsed, hitting the floor with a soundly _thump_. Grimacing, Kris twisted, placing her weight on her hands. With the witch's help, Kris managed to climb unsteadily to her feet. "I'm… fine." The Ravenclaw breathed, frustrated with her own weakness.

"You are _not!_ You're bleedin—what?" Having tugged at Kris's shirt, blotchy, red tissue was exposed on Kris's stomach, yet the wounds were closed. Both Kris and the helpful teenager were stunned. How had Kris healed? If her injuries had not reopened at all, where had all the blood come from? Her stomach, although clearly wounded, had not open cuts to speak of. It was like Madam Pomfrey had just treated her again.

"What is going on here?" A cold voice broke the awkward silence and both girls spin, Kris with much more effort. Before them was a _very_ handsome teenage boy (even Kris had to admit it, albeit with a twinge of guilt) with black hair that would have blended nicely with the darkness had Kris's companion's light not been cast on him. His hair was styled perfectly, reminding Kris of the way people had their hair made ages ago. There was a Slytherin Head Boy crest pinned to his robes and underneath was a buttoned dress shirt and a green tie. _But that's not right,_ Kris thought, brows furrowed in confusion. _I've never seen _him _before. How is he the Head Boy?_ The Head Boy was _supposed _to be a seventh year, pureblood fanatic in Slytherin and Kris had had multiple run-ins with him. This boy did not look familiar in the least.

"Riddle." The girl standing stiffly at Kris's side acknowledged through her teeth.

_Riddle?!_ Kris's eyes widened and she tried to stem her shock before it was displayed on her face only to fail miserably. The boy—_Riddle_—looked at Kris curiously as she quickly sculpted her expression into one of indifference. How could his name be _Riddle_? Only _Voldemort_ was alive with that name. hopefully this was just an incredibly messed up dream.

"I saw your _patronus_, McGonagall, heading to Professor Dumbledore's office and decided to come have a look."

Holy _hell._ Kris's eyes fell on… _McGonagall_ and she examined the girl under the light with a critical gaze. Yes… Kris could see it. Add pounds of wrinkles, glasses, and a formless bun and the McGonagall Kris knew and loved would be standing beside her. Could they be relatives? No… surely she would have met her if she was a Gryffindor—which she clearly was, as stated by her Gryffindor Head Girl badge. Again, Kris was stunned. The Head Girl was supposed to have been a Slytherin, hadn't she? What in Merlin's pantyhose was going on? And did Riddle say that McGonagall's _patronus_ was going to _Dumbledore_'s office? Dumbledore was _dead. _Nothing made sense but Kris worked hard to keep her expression carefully blank after displaying her initial reaction.

"Yes," McGonagall responded in a brusque manner, expression guarded. "I found this girl collapsed on the floor a corridor back. As you can see, she is very hurt and I must take her to Madam Malkin immediately."

"When I approached, I saw her stomach, McGonagall. How did she heal so quickly?"

McGonagall was outright glaring at that point, her wand held defensively and at the ready "I have no idea." She spat, knuckles starkly white in contrast to the rest of her skin on her hand as she gripped her want tightly. "She was barely alive only moments ago."

At that, a pair of entrancing dark blue eyes fell on Kris. _Not red yet_, Kris noticed in awe. What did that mean? "What is your name, girl?" He demanded.

"Kris." She answered quickly. Strength was returning slowly to her limbs and she managed to keep herself upright with little difficulty. It felt like she had awaken from a long sleep, tired and weak, only to slowly gain energy she had not had before as she woke up. How had that happened? Other than the ache in her abdomen, Kris felt better than ever—like she could run a marathon! If she did not have the fear of accidently opening her wounds again, that is.

Riddle raised a delicate eyebrow. "A boy's name?"

Scowling, Kris explained, "It's Kristen actually, bit I'm named after my mom who I… don't like. So call me Kris."

"I see…" Something flashed in his mesmerizing blue eyes and Kris swallowed nervously. Just like with Voldemort, Riddle was incredibly difficult to read. "Well… Kris, do you know what happened?"

Did she know what happened? That was a good question. Pinching the bridge to her nose, Kris frowned deeply in thought. She remembered examining a door, a very fancy, iron-wrought one with designs pertaining to the four Founders etched intricately into the iron. She remembered touching it… unimaginable pain… and then nothing. The next thing she could recall was waking up very weak and covered in what had appeared to be her own blood only to have a young McGonagall find her.

Suddenly, Kris felt a familiar pressure on her mind. Dropping her hand from her face, Kris viciously shoved Riddle out of her head, shooting the boy an enraged glare. "No." She snapped, annoyed. "I remember very little." Smugly, she watched as Riddle's face twisted in shock before he controlled himself again. _He's surprised I know Occlumency, _Kris deduced. _That'll teach him to go messing around in someone else's mind_. She hoped that she had hurt him when she kicked him out of her head and would be overjoyed if he had attained a headache for his arrogant behavior.

McGonagall looked between the pair like she suspected a silent conversion had just concluded and, in a way, one had. "Yes, well, Riddle, even though Kris's wounds miraculously closed, she still lost buckets of blood and should see Madam Malkin as soon as possible. If you'll excuse us…" McGonagall grabbed hold of Kris's hand and towed her in the opposite direction. Kris shot Riddle one last glare before consenting. She _really_ did not like the look he had given her after she pushed him out of her head. His blue eyes had held a trace of amusement and a… darkly curious glint that Kris felt _anything _but pleasure for seeing. Kris had unwittingly attracted Riddle's attention, whether she liked it or not. McGonagall and Kris passed down a few corridors before McGonagall finally spoke, breaking through Kris's thoughts. "Sorry 'bout that. Tom, the boy back there, gets on my nerves."

"I can see how." Kris murmured.

McGonagall's shoulder relaxed and Kris could see that her future Transfiguration teacher was immensely relieved. "Really? Most girls fall head over heels when they are faced with his charm. I thought I was the only girl in the entire school who isn't blinded by his looks."

"He seems… arrogant." Kris answered truthfully.

"Exactly!" McGonagall nodded passionately, snapping her fingers. "I'm glad I met someone who has a level head. My name's Minerva, by the way. Minerva McGonagall."

Kris was tempted to answer with a snide, "_I know_," but managed to stifle the urge. "Nice to meet you."

The Gryffindor nodded enthusiastically. "I've never seen you before, Kris. What house are you in? And what year?"

"Err…" hesitating noticeably, Kris did not know what to say. If this was a dream like she suspected, it would not matter if she told Minerva her true identity bit on the off chance that is was all _real_… then Kris was in a whole lot of shit. "I'm… I'm a transfer student." She answered finally.

Minerva's brows knitted together. "A transfer student?" Her green eyes fell sideways on Kris. "So late at night? It's nearly two in the morning!"

"Uhm… it's very complicated so I'll have to speak to Dumbledore as soon as possibly…" Kris recalled there being a different headmaster during Tom Riddle's time and wondered absently if her dream had those insignificant details. Besides, if it turned out that Kris was not dreaming, Dumbledore would be the only one who could help her anyway.

"Dumbledore? Not Dippet?" Minerva did not sound overly suspicious which was good but her words held a note of uncertainty and growing curiousity. "Do you know Dumbledore or something?"

"Indirectly." Kris said shortly.

"Hnh. Well, I hope you're sorted into Gryffindor."

Remembering the future McGonagall's words, Kris nodded. "I do to."

They reached the vaulting double doors to the hospital wing and Minerva quickly swung them open, revealing the irritatingly white, sterile room with rows of hospital beds. It seemed like it was only a few hours ago that Kris had woken up in one of them, surrounded by her friends after being severely injured. A wave of nostalgia washed over Kris and she wondered anxiously if she ever would return to her time—assuming she was not simply dreaming.

"Oh my! Merlin, dear, what _happened_?"

Both Minerva and Kris turned to see an obvious nurse getting up form her desk in the corner of the room. Her eyes were wide and glued to Kris's bloody attire. She could hardly blame the woman. If Kris had seen someone coated in crimson, she would probably lose her cool just as quickly. "A unicorn got peeved when I tried to ride it off into the sunset like an end to an epic story." Kris informed the nurse gravely.

"A… unicorn?" The woman—presumably Madam Malkin—asked slowly, unmistakably confused.

"I… I think she's being sarcastic, ma'am." Minerva gave Kris a strange look, patently debating on whether or not her new acquaintance was even in the possession of her sanity.

"Oh, I… see." Madam Malkin paused and then, regaining her former vigor, ushered the girl onto the closest bed, Minerva hot on their heels. "So what actually occurred?"

"I do not recall." Kris admitted.

"I found her in a hallway, Madam, with blood all around her. At first, she was very weak and then she slowly gained in strength to the point that she could walk acceptably without aid. When I looked at her wounds… they had closed miraculously."

"Interesting. Did either of you cast a healing spell?"

Minerva shook her head. "No."

"Very interesting. Dear, I'm going to have to examine your injuries. Can you…?" she motioned for Kris to remove her shirt.

Glancing at Minerva, Kris first removed her sweatshirt and then shrugged off the shredded remains that had once been her blouse. All that was left was her bra which had thankfully been undamaged by Amycus's curse and her blood-soaked sweatpants. It was mildly embarrassing and Kris felt a flush rise to her impassive face. Thankfully, the fact that she _could _blush brought on some questions which distracted her. If her gashes had reopened so that her body expelled all that blood ("Buckets" of blood as Minerva had so _wonderfully_ put it), how did Kris have enough left in her to feel so energized and to blush? As she pondered that, the nurse inspected the bumpy, recently closed wounds on her stomach. Occasionally, she "_hmph"_ed or sighed, every now and then pointing her wand and muttering spells under her breath.

"Ah, Minerva. I bumped into your _patronus_ on the way to the washroom. Luckily, I had discovered a room full of chamber pots and was able to make my way here with utmost haste." A cheerful, familiar voice announced.

Kris's eyes rose as Minerva spun. Dumbledore walked over in all his glory and Kris was struck by just how much she had missed those twinkling blue eyes of his. She found herself smiling in spite of everything. It was so… weird seeing the man after he had died to Kris's knowledge. He was younger, wrinkles less prominent and the beard dramatically shorter by just short of a foot—but it was still _him_ nevertheless. Immediately upon laying her eyes on him, all of Kris's fears were discarded. Dumbledore would know what to do when she explained her situation.

"Professor Dumbledore sir!" Minerva greeted with a bright smile and a nod of the head. "I found this girl while I was making my rounds. She was heavily injured. Luckily, the wounds somehow healed themselves and I brought her here."

"Very good. Ten points to Gryffindor." Dumbledore smiled gently at his student. "However, I believe it is time you return to your dorm. I can handle this alone."

"Of course. Thank you, Professor." To Kris, Minerva added. "I hope to see you soon, Kris." With that, she waved and made her escape.

"So, miss…?"

"Kelly." Kris supplied eagerly. "My name is Kristen Kelly."

"Ah," Dumbledore appraised her over his half-moon spectacles. "And who exactly are you?"

"Uhm…" The girl's eyes flickered to Madam Malkin who was watching their exchange raptly. Fortunately, the future headmaster of Hogwarts took the hint.

"Madam Malkin, would you be so kind as to inform me of Miss Kelly's condition and then step out for a few moments?" Kris tried to convey her appreciation with her eyes and Dumbledore smiled, inclining his head graciously.

Disappointment was evident in Madam Malkin's eyes but she did not argue. "Certainly, Professor. There is great trauma on Miss Kelly's body from recent strain on the body, presumably from whatever caused these two identical lacerations you can clearly see on her stomach. If what Miss McGonagall said is true and Miss Kelly healed incredibly fast with nothing to provoke the mending, whatever caused it stopped and they are now regenerating at a normal rate. I tried multiple spells but nothing sped up the process, leading me to believe that the nature of whatever spell did this is dark."

"Interesting. Thank you for your assistance, Amy."

"One moment, Albus." Quickly, Madam Malkin swept over to her small office area and grabbed a cloak. "The poor girl deserves to cover herself."

"You are right. Insightful as always, Amy."

Kris accepted the cloak with a nod of thanks and wrapped it securely around her bloody body, holding it closed with shivering fingers.

"I will raid Professor Slughorn's private stores and return with some potions Miss Kelly can benefit from. Do take care, my dear." Smiling kindly, Madam Malkin did as Dumbledore requested and left.

"So, Miss Kelly, could you explain things to me? Like how you showed up in the castle as you did."

"Uhm, first I need to ask _you _something."

"Go right ahead."

Kris swallowed and shifted uncomfortably, rustling the sheets of the bed she sat on. "This… this isn't a… dream is it?"

Smiling gently, Dumbledore shook his head. "No. I am afraid everything is quite real."

Frowning, Kris considered trusting his word. The second she accepted the fact that everything around her was _not _a very vivid, _vivid_ dream, she pales, her previous color draining from her complexion. "Oh _no_." She moaned, closing her eyes. "How is this _possible_?"

"Miss Kelly? Is everything quite all right?"

"No." Laughing manically, Kris waved vaguely in the direction of the doors she had come in through. "Everything is _not _alright because, you see, my Transfiguration professor just stepped out of the room after being awarded ten points to her house which she _should _be the head of."

"I am sorry? Miss Kelly, what are you saying?"

"McGonagall. She's my Transfiguration professor in 1997."

Dumbledore was silent for a time, processing this information. "You mean to tell me that you are from the future, Miss Kelly?" he inquired slowly after much pondering on his part.

"I suppose." Kris shrugged. "What year is it?"

"1943."

A bitter smile tugged at her lips and Kris eyed Dumbledore. "Fifty-four years, huh? Damn my curiosity…"

"Could you please explain in more depth, my girl?"

She hesitated then, unsure of her course of action. "Sir, I think I made a mistake in revealing what Pro—I mean, Minerva McGonagall is to me. I don't think it wise to inform you of the future."

"Ah. You are quite right. Forgive me. You are a rather bright child, are you not? Yes, you should tread with care when speaking of such a tricky subject."

_Definitely can't tell him that e kicks the bucket then_, Kris thought to herself. It was tempting to reveal the reasons behind the man's demise and it took all the willpower that Kris possessed to keep herself from blabbing. "Weeeellll, sir, I _was_ hit with a dark curse. Many, in fact, causing me to lose consciousness." Kris recounted. "When I awoke, my wounds were about as they are now. Actually, to me, it feels like only a few hours ago that I was lying in this same room… but I digress. So, when I woke up, I had a… meeting of sorts. After that, I was walking through the halls when I came upon a pair of doors I had never seen before. When I touched them, I was…" Kris frowned contemplatively, trying to remember exactly what happened. "I was sucked in. it was… _very _painful—worse even than being hit by the cruciatus curse, sir. When I came to, I was on the floor in the same hallway, only the doors were gone and McGonagall was there."

"I see…" Dumbledore tugged ruminatively on his beard. "So this door sent you back in time. Can you explain the fresh blood?"

"Well, I _think_ that… and this is purely speculation, since I went back in time, I was _ripped_ from my present and thrown back here." Kris _had _been thinking on the reasons behind her miraculous healing. "Not like with the usage of a time turner, sir, because no instrument was involved like with a time turner. Anyway, I think that, if McGonagall had stumbled upon me earlier, she would have seen my body come into existence and grow. Time travel is a very tricky subject, as you said, and perhaps going back so far required me to lose a grasp on my own age. This could explain why I lost all that blood and why I healed so quickly. Maybe all the blood was a culmination of every drop that I shed throughout my lifetime and why, since I had yet to fully recover in my time, still have these wounds."

"Hmmm. Ingenious. Yes, you _are _brilliant."

Kris blushed, embarrassed. He would not say that if he knew what her grades had been like. "No. It's only a guess."

"One that I dare say is more accurate than one most teenagers could come up with in your position." Dumbledore nodded. "Seeing as we are incapable of sending you back to your own time, we will have to come up with good reasons for you being here."

"I told McGonagall I was a transfer student with a complicated situation." Kris offered.

Dumbledore's eyes shone as he beamed happily at her. "Well, that _is _what you are, for lack of a better term, is it not? Yes, we can work with that."

"Grindelwald. "Kris blurted out. Dumbledore seemed surprised but he quickly schooled his features and nodded for her to go on. "He's around during this time, right?" Again, Dumbledore nodded. "I can say that my parents were murdered by him and I came here, to you, a family friend or something, to continue my schooling and flee Grindelwald's reign."

"And would you have attended Durmstrang previously?"

"I suppose so. I shouldn't have trouble passing as a student from there because I know enough about the dark arts." Kris bit her lip. "Not that I have ever practiced them before."

"It's settled then." Dumbledore surmised. "I will deal with the headmaster and we will have you placed into your house tomorrow. Until then, I suggest you make use of your time here and rest. Do you think you will be in Ravenclaw? With wit as sharp as yours, you should fit in just fine."

"No. I hope to be in Gryffindor." Kris had wondered often how her life would have been had she been sorted into Gryffindor along with Ginny and all her other friends. Since she had the chance to do everything over, she would try to do a better job.

"My house, you know." Dumbledore's smile was contagious. "I would be honored to count you among my students."

* * *

"Alright, Miss Kelly," Dumbledore led Kris into the headmaster's office the next day, whistling a cheerful tune. "So what year is it you will be in?"

"Sixth."

"One year below Miss McGonagall, is it?" A flash of disappointment passed Kris when she realized she would not be in the same year as her future favorite teacher (besides professor Binns, of course. That ghost made it _so easy _to fall asleep in class). "Headmaster Dippet?" Dumbledore called, stepping into the office and glancing around. "I have the student I told you about."

There was a loud crash and then a pudgy, balding man stumbled into the room through a door across from Dumbledore and Kris Flustered, he pulled his fingers through his thinning hair and kicked an object out of the way. "Oh, Albus! So sorry; I got caught up in my readings." Jittery fingers rubbed away dirt blemishes on his cheeks. "Must've lost track of time."

"Quite alright, Armando." Dumbledore assure the headmaster, eyes twinkling.

"Yes, thank you, Albus." Dippet grinned cheekily before turning his gaze onto Kris. "So this is her? The child of your deceased friends I never heard of before?"

"This is Miss Kristen Kelly, yes. She attended Durmstrang previously. Her parents were Albert and Adelina Kelly. Miss Kelly here is a half-blood and a very bright witch if I do say so myself." To Kris, it sounded more like Dumbledore was informing _her _of her status and it was just convenient that Dippet was there as well.

_Albert and Adelina Kelly. Half-blood. Got it._ Kris quickly memorized those details. It would be interesting, she decided, playing the part of a half-blood. No more would people call her "mudblood." That idea cheered Kris more than she ever thought it would. She never guessed that the insults affected her so. It was an unforeseen relief and Kris was glad that Dumbledore had not inquired as to her true blood status.

"A compliment from Dumbledore on your first day, my dear, this is impressive." Dippet smiled and moved over to his desk. "Now, we usually leave it here thought the entirety of the year by you will be the exception, Miss Kelly." He withdrew what Kris recognized instantly as the Sorting Hat. "Take a seat, my girl." He motioned to the leather-clad chair positioned in front of the desk. Vaguely, Kris wondered if it was the same seat Kris had sat in to receive countless detentions in the future. It sure _looked_ the same—only newer.

Sitting tensely, Kris allowed the old, fraying hat to be placed on her head and was immediately greeted by the familiar mental voice.

_Ah, Kristen Kelly. I see you have not changed._

_ What? _Kris thought to the hat. _You know me? But we don't meet for another fifty years!_

_ Perhaps, _the sorting hat murmured. _But I am no ordinary hat; time does not hold me in one place. The Founders' dabbled in time magic, as you well know._

An image rose to Kris's mind's eyes. _The doors? The Founders' of Hogwarts made them?_

_ Yes but that is not what we are here to discuss. _The hat answered calmly. _You know as well as I that Ravenclaw is still best suited to your character and yet you want to be in Gryffindor. _

_ Maybe so. _Irritation at having the topic changed colored Kris's silent tone. _But I would still prefer Gryffindor._

_ So be it. _The hat conceded lazily. Louder, so that both Dippet and Dumbledore could hear, the hat cried "_Gryffindor!_"

Dippet removed the hat. "Congratulations, Miss Kelly!" He said with a warm smile. "I'm sure you'll find Gryffindor to your liking."

"I'm certain of it as well." Kris replied, sliding out of the chair. "But, sir… because of my hurry in escaping Grindelwald, I lack supplies and—" she looked down at the old uniform Madam Malkin had provided. "—clothes and such things."

"Not to worry, Miss Kelly." That was Dumbledore. "I am not about to let the daughter of my dear friends go without the proper necessities. You will find a trunk full of everything you will need in the Gryffindor dormitory."

"And I require a wand—"

"We shall send you to Hogsmeade with a handful of galleons. As I said, no need to worry."

Kris was silent for a time before whispering finally, "Thank you, Professor."

* * *

**A/N:** _SOOO? whatcha think? Not much happened, I admit, but I needed to explain some things.  
Hopefully I get some more reviews with this chapter. _ I REALLY want some. It would help me write better if someone corrects any mistakes I make or just simply tells me i'm doing a good job!  
The holidays are coming up so I might not update for a time (probably even longer if I get no reviews to remind me that this story even exists).  
So, happy holidays, all! _


	4. The Way it Was

**Disclaimer:** _If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't stare longingly at a convertible and actually buy one!_

* * *

Kris sat in the empty Gryffindor dormitory examining her newly purchased wand. All the other students were still in class so Kris was luckily alone for the time being. She did hear a couple students passing through the common room downstairs but, fortunately, none entered the room she was hiding in.

It had taken the man in Hogsmeade an unusually long time to find Kris a wand that suited her and the one that did was much nicer-looking than the one Kris had lost in her own time. It was made of sleek ebony with fancy carvings etched along parts of it. A dragon-heartstring was its core and it was twelve inches long. After testing it out, Kris had discovered that her new wand was much more powerful than her own yet she seemed to have more difficulty casting Transfiguration spells.

Sighing, Kris stuffed the wand into the pocket of her new robes and pulled out a blank notebook she had found after sifting through the contents of the trunk Dumbledore had provided. Flipping it open, Kris tapped it with a quill she had procured, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. When an image came to mind, she dipped the tip of her quill into an open ink bottle and began drawing.

It was not like drawing with a pencil, using the quill and ink, but the results were unique. Drawing had always been a hobby of hers and she had not dropped it after discovering that she was witch. It was something she did on occasion and something that never failed to make her feel at peace and at home… which she desperately needed at that point.

Finished, Kris set her quill to the side after carefully wiping it clean. Looking down at her picture, Kris frowned. Why had she drawn _them _of all things? A pair of eyes stared back at her—_Tom Riddle's _eyes to be exact. Even without color, they were entrancing and Kris found herself staring at them for a pretty long time before she growled and slammed the book shut. How had _Riddle's eyes_ been the thing she decided to draw? Had they really made that big of an impression on her?

"Dammit, Kris, how creepy _are_ you?" Kris muttered to herself as she tossed the book into her open trunk. Stretching, Kris jerked the trunk closed and slipped off the bed, patting that infernal _skirt_ down (why did the uniform _have _to be a skirt? They were _so _uncomfortable. She missed her sweatpants.). Sighing, Kris pinched the bridge of her nose and decided to go to the library. There, she could pass the time with ease. Since she had no classes and no friends, Kris was going mad with boredom.

Dumbledore had said that she would receive her time table that night and would begin to attend classes the next day. Dippet had insisted on announcing her to the students during the feast that night, ignoring Kris's protests. She did not know whether she liked the idea of standing in front of the entire school—but not because she was nervous. Oh no, Kris would have found the prospect amusing under any other circumstance. No, this was because she did not want anyone's attention. What if she altered the future accidentally because she had unintentionally effected someone's life?

Pondering that, Kris found the library and slipped inside. The librarian did not even glance up and Kris spotted two students skimming the shelves of books but they also did not look her way and, for that, Kris was grateful.

Humming softly to herself, Kris forged through the aisles before selecting a book that looked promising. With the thick book in hand, Kris made her way to the back of the library and settled down in the corner. From this vantage point, she could see one of the entrances to the Restricted Section and was also hidden from view from most of the library. The girl was secretly pleased that the spot she had always retreated to in her time was still there. It was nice to know that this one spot remained relatively unchanged. All she had to do was ignore the fact that the seat she filled was not the same. Closing her eyes, Kris crossed her legs and settled back into the cushioned chair, resting her head on the back. If she tried hard enough, Kris could almost believe that nothing had changed and that she was in her own time—no, not even then. She could make herself believe that she was in her fifth year at Hogwarts and nothing bad had happened—Dumbledore was still alive and, any second now, Harry would come seeking her out, tell her that she was as ridiculous as Hermione and then hug her and laugh…

"_What _are you doing?"

Kris's eyes snapped open and her head jerked up. At first, her confounded mind showed her _Harry _standing before her but, blinking away her confusion, Kris realized that the boy before her was none other than _Tom Riddle_. "Oh." She murmured, eyes hardening. _Why _did _he _have to be the one to ruin her daydreaming? Gritting her teeth, Kris looked away. As much as she hated it, meeting Riddle's eyes was… annoying. They were distracting to say the least. "I'm relaxing." She answered with a scowl. "What's it to you?"

Riddle's lips twitched and he moved closer to Kris's chagrin. Without waiting to be invited, he took the seat to Kris's right and her scowl deepened. _What _did he think he was _doing_? Was Kris not making it obvious that she wanted him to go? Not to mention he was sitting where Harry always had when Kris refused to leave the library whenever Harry came to fetch her. "So you _are_ a student, Miss…?"

"I told you my name last night." Kris snapped, short tempered. She _really _hated sitting next to the future Lord Voldemort but there was nothing she could do. _Face it,_ she told herself grumpily. _Tom Marvolo Riddle is sitting next to you and there is not a thing you can do._ Slamming her book shut, she focused on giving Riddle her most threatening glare but, to her utter disappointment, the boy did not react in the slightest. Kris hated the fact that the cause of all the hell in the future sat casually beside her and Kris was unable to do a thing. The girl _wanted _to stop him. She had a want and she knew the words that could smother the life from his mesmerizing blue eyes and yet she also knew that doing so would be catastrophic to the future. Kris had to stay her hand because she had already come to the conclusion that messing with time was a fool's decision.

"'Kristen'? That is hardly your name." Riddle retorted calmly, oblivious to the war waging behind Kris's narrowed, gold-flecked hazel eyes.

Snorting, Kris let her glare fall into a stony mask. Pulling out her book, Kris flipped it open to the first page, absently scanning the contents. "That's all you're gonna get, Tommy boy." She informed him with a nod in his direction.

Kris could almost _feel _Riddle's angry stare but opted not to lift her head. Surprisingly, the future mass murderer did not comment on her nickname for him. "I would find it out eventually, being the Head boy." Kris mentally applauded Riddle's silky voice. Even though she _knew _he had to be seething over the ridiculous nickname he _still _managed to sound charming. Just goes to show you that patience is a virtue. If someone had called Kris "Krissy girl," she would have bitten their head off after throttling them with a conveniently located rope.

Sighing with exaggerated resignation, Kris smiled softly and looked over at him. "Since you're _so _intent on being a creepy stalker, I'll tell you; my name is Kristen Kelly but you can call my Miss Awesomest girl _ever_."

It was strangely satisfying to Kris when Riddle's eyes actually widened, albeit almost imperceptibly. "Pardon? Did you just refer to me as a 'creepy stalker'?"

"HA!" Kris pointed an accusatory finger his way. "So the criminal admits to his crime!"

Through his calm exterior, Kris noted the evident bewilderment in his dark eyes. "Crime? I am sorry, Miss Kelly, but you have lost me. If you were under the impression that I was attempting to _stalk_ you, then you are very wrong indeed. I would never stalk _you,_ Miss Kelly." The insult was clear by the tone of his voice and yet he someone still managed to sound charming. What the _hell?_

"Miss Awesomest girl _ever_." Kris corrected heatedly.

Riddle frowned. "I also have no intention of using such a ridiculous name when speaking to you."  
"Then don't speak to me. There, problem solved." Kris grinned cheekily.

A spark of interest zapped through his intense blue eyes, setting the eerily aglow momentarily before dimming. "Your design seems to be to drive me away. Why is that?"

Kris's smile immediately became a frown. She was more angry with herself than little Voldemort. She had made it obvious that she wanted nothing to do with him, yes, but that only proved to interest him further. Not to mention she had not been careful enough to make it so that it looked like she just did not like him. Now he guessed that she had something to hide. Riddle would be right, of course, but Kris was damned if she let him discover her secret. "I don't like you." She snapped, hatefully. "Isn't that obvious?"

He rolled his shoulders vaguely, his lips quirked up slightly. "I do not believe I ever gave you a reason to dislike me."

Another derisive snort left Kris at his words. "Ate you really that stupid? Maybe you'd leave me alone if I tried rifling around in _your _head."

Immediately, the amused glint in his eyes vanished and his lips thinned, his eyes hard.

Before he could get a word of denial in, Kris snapped, "And don't you _dare_ try to lie and say you have no idea what I'm talking about because you and I both know that you do."

To Kris's absolute horror, Tom merely threw his head back and barked out a bone-chilling laugh. Eyes flashing dangerously, he fixed Kris with an inquisitive stare that was full of amusement, curiosity, and a hard edge that left Kris speechless. "I was right about you." He said with a smirk. "You are far too interesting for your own good."

_Dammit, Kris!_ She yelled at herself internally. _Are you _trying _to get his attention? You moron!_ Not trusting herself to speak for fear of saying something potentially revealing, Kris simply grunted, shot him an enraged glare, and turned her horrified expression downward.

"Dumbstruck, I see."

Kris's head jerked up and she gaped at his arrogant smirk. "..._hell?_ No way!" Still, he somehow looked victorious so she spat, "What do you want anyway? Are you here _just _to annoy me or do you want something?"

"I want nothing from you." _So _a lie, Kris could tell. "I only wanted to introduce myself properly to the new exchange student."

"Hey! Wait a sec! You know I'm a transfer? Then someone told you about me. Why did you demand my name then?" Kris's eyes narrowed and her fingers pressed deep indentations into the pages of her book. What was he playing at?

"Yes. I simply wanted to see if you would tell me yourself." Still holding that infuriatingly attractive smirk, Riddle stood. "But I must be going now. See you around, Miss Kelly." With that, he gave her a nod and left, disappearing behind a row of books.

Kris frowned, nonplussed. A shiver wound down her spine at his words. _See you around…_ he had said. Why did that sound like a dark promise? And why did Kris not feel as scared as she thought she should?

Sighing dramatically, Kris looked back down at her book and drove all thoughts of the frustrating Tom Riddle aside with the aid of entrancing words printed on paper.

* * *

Everyone in the great hall eyed Kris curiously when Dippet called her to the front of the room to introduce her. Holding her head high, Kris stepped up beside the cheerfully grinning Headmaster, briefly meeting Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes before greeting all of the Hogwarts' students. Dippet gave the students a short explanation for Kris's abrupt transfer before sending the girl to the Gryffindor table.

Eyes roving the great hall as she made her way to the Gryffindor table, Kris spotted Tom Riddle watching her, his blue eyes narrowed as she took a seat next to McGonagall who had frantically waved her over.

"So this is the new girl I was telling you about!" Minerva grabbed Kris's arm and shoved her into the spot beside her.

Blinking, Kris focused on Minerva and her two friends. "I'm Kristen Kelly but I prefer just Kris." She informed them, taking in the faces that were around her.

"I'm Cedrella." The one with dark brown curls, big brown eyes, and tanned skin greeted with a brilliant smile. "Nice to meet you, Kris."

"And _I'm _Mary ." The second one announced in an imperious voice, chin raised and green eyes flashing with superiority. Blinking lazily, Kris took in her appearance, noting how she sat with her back taut and her lips curled in a demeaning smirk. To Kris, Mary looked more like a Slytherin than a Gryffindor and Kris was instantly wary.

"These two dimwits are my friends." Minerva said, grinning. She reached out and piled some mashed potatoes onto her plate. Kris had not noticed that the food had materialized and enthusiastically swept some pastries onto her plate, ignoring all of the "healthy" alternatives.

"So what year are you in, Kelly?" Mary asked haughtily, nose crinkling as though she found Kris disgusting to look at. Amusedly, Kris could not blame her. Whenever Kris herself had caught her own reflection in a mirror, she would shudder involuntarily. No doubt her looks had worsened wither her recent injuries. The only thing Kris actually found pride in were her eyes; not everyone could claim that they had gold flecks decorating their irises. Other than that, Kris was well aware of her plain, perhaps even _ugly_, features. The inky-black shade to her hair was nice but fell flat and was lifeless and even had a few prominent grey hairs strewn throughout the boring mess. Her hair also made her skin pale and sickly-looking, causing any and all blemishes to stand out like a glowing neon sign.

"Sixth." She answered as she haphazardly stacked cookies on her plate. Carefully, she topped the stack with a sprinkled one only to have the tower collapse, spreading crumbs all over the table. Minerva chuckled at her antics while Mary seemed annoyed and Cedrella did not appear to have even noticed.

"Aww," McGonagall's eyes flashed with disappointment. "You're a year younger than us."

"Oh yes, it _is_ a pity." Mary muttered sarcastically, a relieved smirk curving her lips upward.

"You'll be in the same year as Riddle though." Cedrella smiled dreamily. "I wish _I_ was a year younger. Mother might actually approve if I could get _him_."

Minerva sighed. "Cedrella, don't go after a guy for just _looks_. That's shallow."

"But Tom Riddle is, like, god-like in looks!" She argued as though that made up for it. Flipping her lively curls over her shoulder, Cedrella twisted in her seat to get a good look at the Slytherin table across the room.

"He's Sltyherin, Ced." Mary grumbled. "And a muggleborn hating fanatic." Despite her words, the girl also moved so she could see the Sytherin table better, green eyes acquiring a dreamy glint similar to Cedrella's. obviously both of McGonagall's friends were head over heels for Riddle.

"He's just a boy." Minerva groaned, throwing her head back in frustration. "There are plenty of boys that we actually have a chance with."

Kris delicately placed a cookie between her teeth and bit down, chewing thoughtfully as she eyed Minerva's two love-struck, dimwit friends. Was Mary muggleborn? Or just a sympathizer? It would explain why, despite the very Slytherin-like vibe Kris got from her, she was a Gryffindor.

"Oh, c'mon," Mary snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "_You_ liked him just as much as we do until he completely rejected you in our third year."

McGonagall's face flushed a deep crimson and she ducked her head, eyes darting over to Kris to gauge the new girl's reaction. "That was… the stupidity of youth!" she informed them, eyes overflowing with unconcealed shame.

"So you're saying _we're_ stupid?" Mary demanded.

"Oh shut it." Minerva snapped, brushed tendrils oh her burgundy hair out of her eyes to glare at them ferociously.

Mary and Cedrella laughed softly. "So what about you, Kris?" Cedrella asked with a small smile. "Are you also an idiot?"

Breezily, Kris waved a lazy hand in her direction. "As stupid as they come." She said with a generous dip of the head. "But if you're asking whether or not I like Tom Riddle, then the answer is no. he reminds me of a viper, full of poison and just waiting to strike."

"Not to mention hypnotic." Cedrella giggled. "Because aren't snakes supposed to be hypnotic?"

"I think that's a myth, Ced." McGonagall replied dryly. "But it's a good analogy nevertheless."

"It's cliché!" Mary complained. "He _is _in Slytherin." Shaking her head, the Gryffindor sighed. "But, Ced, if you like _Riddle_, why don't you give Septimus a chance?"

"_Weasley?_" Cedrella gaped at Mary.

Kris's eyebrows rose and she silently egged the girls on, mentally urging them to continue. It had not crossed Kris's mind that there would be Weasleys in this time period but it was stupid of her to assume that there were none. The Weasleys were an old family, probably as old as the Malfoys.

"You heard me," Mary said snidely, head tilted to the side and a proud smile dancing on her face. "You can't say you won't give _Septimus_ the time of day if you stare at Riddle with those lost puppy eyes of yours."

"It's—it's different!" Cedrella argued, brown eyes unbelievably wide.

"How so?"

"Tom's, well, mature, you know?"

"They argue like this all the time." Minerva whispered, leaning over so that Kris could hear. "Mary thinks it's ridiculous that Ced blows Septimus Weasley off all the time with the excuse that he's a year younger and she wants someone older."

"But Riddle's also a year younger." Kris pointed out. So Septimus Weasley was a sixth year? If he was a Gryffindor like all the Weasleys Kris was familiar with, then Kris would be seeing a lot of him.

"Exactly." Minerva grinned. "Both Mary and I know that Cedrella doesn't care about any age difference. She only cares about not displeasing her mother—the great and cruel Lysandra Black."

"_Black?_" Kris could not keep the surprise from flitting across her face and coloring her voice.

"Oh yes. Our Cedrella here is the black sheep of none other than the widely respected Black family. She was placed in Gryffindor and not Slytherin so her mum actually threatened to burn her from the family tree. If Cedrella doesn't marry a reputable Slytherin, Lysandra will go through with disowning her daughter."

"That's horrible." Kris muttered.

"I know." Minerva sighed. She did that a lot, it seemed, just like her future counterpart. "The Blacks are a bit extreme when it comes to heritage and such. Cedrella's older sister is already married—and she just graduated last year!"

"Why can't she like Septimus Weasley? That's a pureblood family name, isn't it?" Kris asked, feigning ignorance.

"The Weasleys are a pureblood family, yes, but they are also known blood-traitors—they sympathize with muggles and muggleborns. To the Blacks, the Weasleys are no better than a muggleborn family." Minerva gave her friend a pitying look but both Cedrella and Mary were too consumed in notice anything outside their heated debate. "Lysandra almost promised Ced to Alphard Black—and they're, like, second cousins or something!"

"Alphard Black?" Why did Kris recognize the name? She had heard it somewhere but could not remember where. Something told her that this Alphard person had something to do with Sirius Black, Harry's godfather.

"He's a Slytherin in my year." The corner of Minerva's lips twitched upward. "One of Riddle's followers."

"Riddle has followers?"

Minerva coughed and looked down at her plate. "Err… that's what I call Riddle's 'friends' because, to me, they aren't friends at all. When you see how they interact, you'll probably see what I mean."

Kris nodded, her brain spinning with all this new information. So future Voldemort already had followers? Boy, he sure worked fast. "Who else counts as his… followers?"

"Pretty much every Slytherin except the young ones. Be careful when it comes to Sytherins. I don't know your blood status but they target muggleborns for tormenting."

"I'm a half-blood." Kris offered slowly, finding it… odd to use the term to describe herself.

"That's good. They'll probably refrain from _really _bad bullying. It's horrible, how they treat Mary…" Another sigh. "And the proud fool refuses to let me give those sadistic gits detention even though I'm Head girl."

"Mary's muggleborn." It was not a question.

McGonagall's eyes flashed sharply to Kris's face. "Yes. Do you have a problem with that?"

A light chuckle escaped Kris as she shook her head. "Not in the least."

"Good." Relief was evident in Minerva's emerald green eyes. "Now, could you _please_ tell me why you only have sweets on your plate?"

* * *

"Merlin, she's worse than my sister," Kris grumbled after finally escaping Minerva McGonagall's motherly clutches and barreling out of the great hall before the seventh year Gryffindor could stop her. Pausing, Kris leaned against the castle's stone wall in a vacant hallway, feeling suddenly weak and in need of support. At the mention of her sister, a wave of homesickness swamped Kris and she pinched her nose, exhaling dramatically. It would not help Kris at all to think about her sister so Kris valiantly shoved all thoughts of her motherly sister out of her head and began walking again.

Finding Dumbledore's office was not hard but Kris nearly went to the Headmaster's quarters before remembering that Dumbledore would not be there. It was a bit strange finding the powerful wizard in what would be McGonagall's office.

"Ah, Miss Kelly, you are early." Dumbledore greeted her with a smile when she entered the room.

"I hope it's not a problem, sir." Kris mumbled, glancing around. The room was hardly different from the way McGonagall had it in the future. The only difference was a few peculiar-looking objects strewn about along with innumerable amounts of books throughout the room. McGonagall had always had the room immaculate with all her things hidden from prying eyes.

"Not at all." Dumbledore smiled brilliantly and motioned for Kris to take a seat in the only chair available besides the one he was filling.

The leather-bound chair sat before Dumbledore's desk and had piles of huge books on it. Inwardly groaning, Kris trudged over to the seat and began systematically picking stacks of the books up and placing them on the floor.

"So have you decided on what courses you will be taking?" Dumbledore queried before Kris had even sat down.

Hefting about a million pounds of books, Kris plopped her wobbly stack onto Dumbledore's desk with a _bang_. "I assumed I would be taking the same ones I did before."

"You have the chance to study something new, Miss Kelly. I would not deprive you of the opportunity."

Kris started to lift another ungodly heavy stack of books before scowling and whipping out her wand threateningly. The books rose at her silent command and gently lowered themselves onto the floor around the chair. Grinning at her small victory (books would not triumph over her today!), Kris fell into the stiff chair and faced the Transfiguration Professor.

"Nonverbal incantations. Impressive, Miss Kelly."

"Almost everyone can do it in my time." Kris answered flippantly. "Anyway, I suppose I would like a change in my classes. Does Professor Binns teach History of Magic?"

"I am afraid not. That would be Professor Urquart."

"Damn." Kris muttered in an undertone. She had been hoping her favorite teacher was around but she was regretfully disappointed. Whoever this Urquart was, he probably would not appreciate Kris treating his class like a napping course. "Then I won't take that."

"I see."

"I guess… that leaves Transfiguration, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy. Uhm, I guess I'll take Care of Magical Creatures instead of History of Magic."

"And that is all? You have time for more classes if you wish."

"What can I say? I really like my naps and free periods are just perfect for that."

* * *

**A/N**:_ Sorry it took a little while to update. My sister came home for the holidays and she's a slob. My notebook got buried underneath her junk and I only recently stubbed my toe on it.  
Sooo... how was it?  
I know that McGonagall is actually more than one year older than Riddle but, for the sake of my story, go along with it pleeeease XD  
Also, I'm thinking of making Tom open the chamber even though it's his sixth year and he was said to have opened it during his fifth... sooo... opinions?  
thanks!_


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